A Fresh Start
by Little Orange Frog
Summary: Esme leaves Columbus for a beachfront community, files for divorce, & cuts all ties with her family. Will she be able to keep it together, heal her wounds, & find true love? Or will her past catch up with her? drama, fluff, & just a dash of humor. AU AH
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I cradled the small blue cylinder in my hand delicately. My fingers curled lovingly around bottle of Lofepramine as I contemplated my situation. It would be so, so simple. People feared death because it was unknown. But what they failed to realize was that death is easy; it's living that's the hard part. And it would be effortless, tranquil even, to slip into a blissful state of death.

Surely anything would be better than this hell on earth. I let my eyes wander to the soft bruises that dotted my bare arms and legs. After all, hadn't I been thinking of running when I found out about the baby? Nevertheless, the baby was gone now. I could transition smoothly from life to death and join my baby in the afterlife, wherever that may be. My baby, my poor little baby.

While a part of me knew that my son was better off dead than near Charles, it still didn't diminish the pain. I knew it was selfish to want my baby, but I couldn't help it. He had given me something to live for, if only for a couple of months. And now, it was over. He was gone and I was alone.

My gaze fell on the pill bottle again. Death was simple. So, so simple. But, there was something. Maybe it was my innate instinct to stay alive, to keep moving forward towards something better, sweeter. It certainly wasn't fear. I knew the taste of fear all to well;  
the way it pooled like venom in the back of your mouth.

Acrid poison that slid down your throat to the pit of your stomach, charging every breath with intoxicating terror. This was something different. Something gentler. With a steady hand, I set the bottle back inside the medicine cabinet and closed the hinged door. I stared at the reflection in the mirror, a pale woman with stringy brown hair and a complacent smile. With a frown, I looked away. This was not who I wanted to be.  
There had to be something more.

And I was going to find it.


	2. The Rickety Stairs

I nodded in satisfaction as I looked around the tiny, yet clean space. I had spent hours scrubbing the kitchen tiles spotless. After managing to get all of the unidentifiable mildew out of the bathtub, every spider had been lovingly squished and every rodent gently chastised with a deadly whack of my broom. Not a particle of dust remained and I felt a wave of pride wash over me. Thirteen straight hours, too many calluses to count, and hell of lot of bleach had turned the run-down apartment into a livable space. With a little paint and some furniture, it would be a home. I smiled at the thought.

I could already imagine the flower boxes I would grow in the window and the well-loved books I would line the shelves with. It still had a long way to go, but it would get there. After a week of sleeping in my car it was just nice to see a mattress shoved against the far wall of the compact bedroom. With a brisk nod, I disentangled myself from the wad of rags I had been using and lifted the box full of water-damaged playboys I had found under the kitchen sink. Hoisting it on my hip, I made my way out of the apartment and into the hallway. Cool, salty air tousled my bangs and I blew them out of my eyes with a huff. That's when I glanced back and noticed that the bucket of soapy water I had been scouring the windows with was still sitting on the patio.

I scowled at the box of disgusting magazines on my hip as I thought for a moment. If I took them both in one trip, that would be one less encounter with the stairs. Yet, I was likely to fall and bust my ass in the process. I figured I would take my chances and with both hands full, I marched down the hallway.

When I got to the stairwell I exhaled slowly. This was one reason that no one had rented the apartment for so long. The stairs looked pitifully old and sorrowfully neglected. Though I had climbed them twice today, they made me uncannily nervous. I bit my lip and inched my way down the narrow staircase. Maybe it was just me, but for a flight of stairs it seemed abnormally long. It creaked and swayed with every step. Once I reached the bottom, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and smiled in relief. Caught up in my own little world, I didn't bother to notice the careful footsteps behind me.

"Do you need a hand?" The deep voice surprised me and I spun around, losing my grip on the bucket. I took a step forward in hopes of reclaiming the pail, but the damage was already done. The water underfoot caused my shoe to slide across the wood planks and I ended up falling on my ass, drenched in soapy water. Needless to say the box of playboys had slipped from my fingers, so that it sat upturned in the puddle next to me.

It's a widely known fact that when something traumatic, like a car crash, occurs everything happens in slow motion. Well, I'm not sure if my incident could be classified as "traumatic", but it felt pretty distressing from where I sat, (on the floor) and I can tell you that it did not happen in slow motion. It happened much too quickly for me to keep up. When I realized just what a fool I had managed to make of myself, I peeked through my bangs at the tall man, embarrassed. With a chuckle, he extended a hand to help me up. Once I was back on my feet, I set to collecting the disintegrating playboys.

"Sorry about that," I said, eyeing his saturated shoes warily.

"No problem. My name's Felix. I didn't mean to spook you," He bent down to help me, furrowing his brow at the site of the playboys.

"They're not mine." I explained hastily. "I found them while I was cleaning up the upstairs apartment. I'm renting it now. My name's Esme," He stood, pulling me up with him. He had an olive complexion and a short crop of black hair. His eyes danced with amusement.

"Well Esme, It's _very _nice to meet you," he winked and feeling my blush rise, I studied the floor intently.

"It's nice to meet you as well. Do you live here also?"

"Yes, my apartment's at the end of hall. So you're renting the upstairs apartment? How interesting. I've heard it's in terrible condition. And that's if the staircase doesn't scare you off first."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "The space isn't too bad though. A little paint and it'll be just great." I smiled happily at the thought and he smiled in response. "I knew I shouldn't have tried to walk down the stairs with both hands full. I was actually on the way to my car and I wanted to save myself a trip."

He nodded slyly and picked up the now empty bucket. "Well, can I offer you some help?" he asked as we walked outside of the building to my car.

"Sure, that would be great," I tossed the box into the dumpster that sat nondescriptly to the left of the building and gestured in the direction of my vehicle. He tilted his head to the side for a moment, but didn't comment. I was more than a little surprised that he didn't say anything. My 1970 Chevy Monte Carlo was a piteous site with its different colored doors and rusting hubcaps. I patted the hood of the car affectionately before popping the trunk open and studying its contents.

There were ten boxes total: six full of clothes and the other four filled to the brim with books. My pillow and Grandma's quilt were thrown carelessly in the passengers' seat and a box full of odds and ends sat in the backseat next to my jar of peanut butter. I looked up at Felix, half expecting him to blanche at the site of my unorganized assortment of possessions. He only smiled and gestured towards the boxes.

"What would you like me to carry?"

"Well, you could take a few of these," I motioned towards the books and he nodded. It was then that I saw how muscular and built he was. His arms rippled easily under the weight of the boxes as he heaved them from the trunk and balanced three of them effortlessly in his hands. I grabbed a box of my own, shut the trunk with a quiet thud, and followed him back to the complex.

Once inside I was reminded again of my oh-so-graceful blunder when I spotted the puddle. Shaking my head and pulling in a deep breath I made my way cautiously up the stairs. As I reached the top, I glanced down in time to see Felix watching me intently.

"Something wrong?" I asked curiously.

"No, not really. Are you sure these stairs are safe?" I laughed freely, shaking my head to indicate 'no'.

"Don't worry though, if they do give out, at least Marcus will be too preoccupied to care about the water all over his floor."

He chuckled, placing his feet firmly on the first step. "This is true. But then you won't have anyone to help you tote the rest of your stuff."

"Ah, well then you best be careful."

"No need to tell me twice," he muttered darkly, making me smile.

"Hey, if all else fails, I've got your back," I said. He glanced up with a sheepish grin on his face. Blowing my bangs out of my eyes, I smirked playfully. I had a feeling that Felix and I were going to be great friends.

Arriving inside my apartment, I directed Felix to stack the boxes under the windows. He took in my tiny living space with unattached curiosity and I waited patiently as he appraised my little collection of rooms. His dark eyes raked over the bare carpet, drinking in my tiny stove and ancient refrigerator. The amusement was painted clear on his face, but it didn't bother me. He didn't strike me as a nonbeliever, but if he was, he would soon find that Esme Platt had no intentions of letting a few antique appliances, or a hazardous staircase, for that matter, slow her down. He cleared his throat and I blinked up surprised, embarrassed to be caught staring.

"Um, how much trouble do you think I'll be in with Marcus?" I asked, wondering if someone had a mop I could borrow.

Felix grinned wickedly. "Probably not too much trouble, assuming he doesn't find out about it."

"Wonderful. Do you have a mop I could borrow, by chance?" I asked hopefully. He nodded and led the way back down the stairs.

I was more careful as I stepped off the staircase this time, wary of the mass of water that was slowly seeping its way into the floor. He would definitely not be happy about that. Under the stairs was a little door that led to an even smaller closet. I wasn't even sure if it could be classified as a closet. He opened the door, drawing out a yarn mop and bucket. I wrinkled my nose as he handed them to me, but smiled gratefully.

"Thanks," I muttered, glancing at the puddle on the floor. Okay, what now? I didn't want to look like a complete idiot, but still, how was I supposed to get all of that water up? I stared at the mop in concentration. The closet door squeak as he closed it, and then large hands wrapped around my fingers. I looked up in surprise, caught off guard yet again. This was different though. It had been weeks since a man had touched me and I yanked my hand away quickly in a knee-jerk reaction. I stared at him warily. He looked apologetic and a little lost. I couldn't bring myself to apologize. I wasn't sorry. I didn't like being touched.

He held my gaze, his forehead furrowed worriedly as he spoke. "I'm sorry. Would you like me to show you how?"

I chewed my lip debating. "I don't want to impose,"

"Don't worry, you're not. Anything for the lovely lady," he said with a wink. I rolled my eyes, handing him the mop and bucket. He demonstrated how to sweep the mop across the floor with fluid strokes and ring the excess water into the bucket. I watched for a moment, then took the mop and mimicked him. It took ten minutes to transfer most of the water into the bucket. We had done all we could.

"Take the bucket outside and dump the water on the grass," Felix commanded as he rung the mop out one last time and placed it back in the closet. I picked up the pail, content to do as he asked. As I turned around to push the door open, I all but collided with the tall dark haired man who was so wrapped up in his conversation he hadn't noticed me. I stepped back, slightly shocked. His think lips curled up into a smirk as he took in me and Felix's guilty expressions. I slipped the pail behind my back and grinned timidly.

"Hi Marcus," I said gently.

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**I hope you liked it. I'm not sure when the next chappy will be up, but I'll do my best to get it up in the next week. If you have any faith in this story whatsoever, please send me a review. Everyone that reviews will get a preview of the next chappy. ;)  
**

**--**

**Toni  
**


	3. Gandalf

**This chapter is dedicated to Ebony and janispsnipes.**

**Thanks for the awesome feedback.**

**Now, on with the story.**

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"_Hi Marcus," I said gently._

"Hello. Esme, Felix. What's going on here?" Our landlord asked suspiciously as he took in the dampened floor boards and our sheepish looks. I glanced as Felix for backup, but he simply shook his head, holding back a laugh.

"Well," I began. "I bumped into Felix this morning, and accidentally spilled-"

"She busted her ass this morning when she tripped down the stairs. We were just cleaning up," Felix interjected enthusiastically.

"I did not trip down the stairs," I snapped. "He caused me to fall," I pointed an accusing finger at my friend. He feigned shock and I glared, trying to suppress a giggle.

"Well, that certainly calls for us to squabble like children then, doesn't it? After all, my ruined floor boards are certainly a trite matter when it comes to technicalities of the incident." Marcus spewed exasperated. I smiled, knowing we weren't in trouble.

"Are you alright?" The voice that spoke was soft and unbearably sweet. I looked up, noticing the woman on Marcus's arm for the first time. Her soft chocolate curls bounced gingerly as she stared at me worriedly. Even with her brow furrowed in such a way, she radiated a feeling of happiness, like a beam of sunshine, and I wondered how I hadn't seen her when she came in. Her large eyes, fringed with delicate lashes, looked up at the three of us questionably. She had a soft, rounded figure and chalky skin that practically glowed.

"I'm fine, thank you." I muttered.

"I'm very glad. I've been telling Marcus to fix those stairs for years now." She glanced up at her companion and he blushed. "You must be the woman renting the upstairs apartment. That's very brave of you." Her voice was quiet and the room was silent as we hung on her every word.

"Oh, thank you. Yes, I'm Esme. It's very nice to meet you."

"I'm Didyme, Marcus's wife." I raised my eyebrows in surprise and she smiled wider. "I can see he's told you all about me," Her tone was cynical as she glared tenderly at her husband.

"Yes, well, um," he stuttered and the sound of her laugh was like tinkling bells.

"No worries, Marcus, dear. It seems we have a things to take care of, mostly paperwork. It is very nice to know you Esme. I do hope you'll be joining us on Thursday evening. Don't let Felix get you into any trouble," With a brisk laugh, she whisked herself out of the room, Marcus at her side. As soon as they were gone, I looked over to Felix questionably. He simply shrugged.

"Joining them for what on Thursday evening?" I asked suspiciously. He grinned, a mischievous light in his eyes.

"I could tell you, but then…"

"You'd have to kill me. Charming." I muttered. He laughed, a deep throaty laugh, shaking his head.

"You sure are a trip Esme." I raised my eyebrows but let it slide. The curiosity was eating me from the inside out, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I hauled the bucket outside to empty its contents or soapy water, all the while thinking about Didyme. She was young. No more than twenty-five. And she seemed delightful. I idly wondered about the strange couple as I replaced the bucket in the closet. I turned to see Felix was leaning against the door jamb with a cocky expression on his face.

"What?" I asked charily.

"Nothing."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes and pretended to ignore him.

"You want to know how a guy like Marcus managed to score a chick like that." It wasn't a question, but a statement. "And I'm sure you'd like to know about Thursday," he said, as an afterthought.

I narrowed my eyes. "No, actually. I don't bother with other people's affairs," I lied smoothly. "I have enough trouble bothering with me own. And if need be, I'll just wait until Thursday to find out"

"Sure. Well that's too bad because now I'm not going to tell you," he taunted.

"I smiled sweetly. "That's fine. I have to unload my car, if you'll excuse me." Felix followed after me with a smirk painted on his face. Once the car was unloaded, and all the boxes were stacked carefully in my apartment, despite Felix's snark attitude, I found myself hungry and just a little tired.

"Thank you for the help today. Perhaps I'll see you around?" I moved smoothly towards the door, and held it open for him.

"I guess that's a dismissal." He chuckled, shaking his head. "It was nice to meet you. I still find it funny you fell down the stairs,"

"I did not fall down the stairs!" I said tersely, a faint blush coloring my cheeks. "Ironically enough, I made it all the way down that rickety stair case to the landing only to drop the pail and slip on the water," I set my shoulders back, attempting to maintain a little dignity.

"Yeah, okay. See around then," he called with a wave, setting off down the hallway. I smiled as I latched the door behind him. I decided that food was my first priority, so I snagged my jar of peanut butter and a pack of Saltines and set to nibbling as I began to sort through my books. Before long I was lost in the alphabetization of Anne Rice's novels. I could have sworn I had put them in alphabetical order when I packed them up. Perhaps I had been mistaken. It was highly doubtful that anyone had broken into my car, rearranged my books, and then put everything back only to make my shelving more complex. My breathing became shallower as I tried futilely to calm myself down. It was irrational, but that wild fear began to creep up into my throat, seizing my lungs and speeding up my heart ten-fold. My palms shook and squeezed my eyes tight, refusing to let his name cross my mind. Surely even he wouldn't bother with something so trivial, not when, when…

My adrenaline level sky rocketed as the startled cry of a gull made me jump three foot in the air. With shaky breaths, I calmed myself down. It was ridiculous to get so worked up over absolutely nothing. Highly unproductive. I glanced over to see the noisy bird sitting on my patio, his beady eyes boring into my head as he craned his feathery neck this way and that.

"Jeez, Esme. Get a grip," I said hoarsely, addressing myself in third person. Oddly enough, it made the tension in the room decrease just a fraction. With a sigh, I climbed to my feet and went to stand on the porch, the half-empty pack of saltines in my hand. Surprisingly the gull didn't so much as flinch as I leaned on the rail of the balcony and munched down another cracker. He flapped his wings disdainfully after a moment and I laughed, tossing a cracker in his direction. The bird scooped it up in its beak immediately and gobbled the saltine down. It passed down his throat in a self-proclaimed lump and I smiled.

"Was that a yummy cracker little birdy?" I called playfully. A second later I rolled my eyes, smacking myself on the forehead. I was talking to a bird. What the hell, Esme? Then again, why not? He seemed willing enough to listen. "Would you like another saltine?" The bird flapped his wings again, calling out gaily. I tossed the cracker at him and watched as he swallowed it. "How about a name?" I said after a moment. His head tilted this way and that as he hopped up onto the railing. "What shall we call you? How about Rufus?" He remained motionless. "Or not. Um, Billy is a good name?" He tilted his head slightly, but his expression remained the same; a passive look of indifference. His expression? Lord, Esme! He's a bird! Was I going crazy? Having irrational panic attacks and talking to birds. What was I becoming? Still, his eyes seemed to stir something inside me. "Fine. How about Gandalf?" His shriek caught me off guard and I started. "Well that must be a yes," I muttered, popping another saltine in my mouth.

"Hm, so Gandalf," I said, speaking around the food in my mouth just as my mother had told me never to do. "What is a pretty birdy like you doing sitting on my porch?" He shook his wings out. I nodded, accepting his wordless answer with patience. "I see." After a moment of silence he spread his wings and dropped gracefully off the railing, into the sky. I nodded again, this time in satisfaction. His avian form could be seen soaring over the buildings and grassy patches that separated me from the ocean. Gandalf had the kind of self-assured confidence that allowed him to drop into the sky without a moment's hesitation. The waves pounded vaguely in my ears and I could smell the poignant salty air even as far as I was from the sea. I resolved to walk to the beach tomorrow and look for sea shells. Something I hadn't done since I was a little girl. This was the beginning. My fresh start. I may not have the courage to soar off yet, I thought to myself, but I will. Someday very soon, I will.

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**So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it. Pretty please send me a review, or I may have to reconsider and turn this into an Esme/Felix fic. **

**Any one that reviews will get a sneak preview of the new chappy and a cookie. :D**

**Until Next Time, **

**Toni  
**


	4. Dollface

**I'd like to thank my lovely new beta reader Pixie-Tinks83. Her stories are wonderful and her insight is priceless.**

**This chapter is dedicated to:**

**janispsnipes and Pixie-Tinks83**

**i do so adore feedback in the form of reviews**

**Disclaimer: It is with a heavy heart that I admit that the exclusive rights to Twilight aren't mine, nor will they ever be.**

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I was running, my feet pounding the ground as I struggled to keep my balance. The world seemed to tilt this way and that as I stumbled again and again. My loose hair whipped painfully against eyes as I approached the shore. Hard concrete gave way to warm sand and I stopped short, gasping for air. The terror began to fade as I watched the tide ebb and flow, billows of white hugging the coastline, then being tugged back to oblivion. While no sound came from behind me, I knew that if I turned around _he_ would be there, his eyes angry and his speech slurred; a hateful smirk stamped on his face. I cringed at the idea, and wrung my hands together.

The cool night breeze tousled the edges of my sundress. As I looked down to watch the soft green cloth flutter in the wind, I saw the bruised and bloodied flesh of my legs and arms. My eyes grew wide and I wondered at the searing pain that came about when I lifted my arm. Had the marks been there? I stared in amazement as the sand around my feet turned a menacing crimson color. Was that my blood? It took my mind several seconds to register that I was bleeding to death on the beach. Perhaps if I turned for a just a moment, he would help me. He would see the blood and the anger would die.

_Don't be a fool._

My eyes snapped up, searching the shoreline for the monotone voice. No one was there. With a frown, I sat down on the sand, ignoring the burn of the cuts as sand crusted to my skin, adhering to the drying blood. Maybe it was just the wind toying with my thoughts. Tilting my head back, I studied the sky. The cradle of dark, dotted with pinpoints of light and beauty. Glimmers of worlds past. I smiled ruefully as I glanced again at my battered arms. I didn't blame the stars one bit for staying hidden in the heavens, safe and faraway from the petty drama of mortals. That's why they glowed so brightly. They're untouchable; secure and complete in their own place. While I watched the stars glitter happily, I yearned to join them in that celestial dance. I wanted to shimmer, suspended in time and space without a sense of pain or fear.

I jolted in surprise as an icy wave hit me, nearly knocking me backward. The taste of salt filled my mouth and I coughed hoarsely. I hadn't realized that the tide had risen so quickly. Another blast of water slammed into me, pouring salt into my wounds. Scampering to my feet, I took a few steps back, musing at my dampened dress. I watched the ocean tear the crimson sand away from the beach, smoothing and blending until the shore stood in unison once again. I shuffled my toes back and forth, rocking slightly, mimicking the sea. I could feel the droplets of water rolling off my arms and legs, clinging to my hair. Cricket's chirped rhythmically from the rocks behind me as I waited. For what, I wasn't sure.

_Trust yourself._

The voice called again. I inhaled, reveling in the smell of salt water. I didn't bother to look for the voice this time. I knew I wouldn't see it. Trust myself. I took a step forward, spreading my wings and leaning into the wind as it picked up, swirling around me. My eyes shut tight, I exhaled slowly, deliberately. Then I felt the hands, skim over my shoulders and close around my neck. Rough, calloused hands that held the air from my body. I tore and kicked at the hands viciously, but they held fast, like iron fetters. The terror, like pooling venom in the back of my mouth threatened to consume me as I fought futilely, my blood pumping painfully in my ears. My lungs burned as he began to laugh. The chortle was lost in the roar of the ocean as my eyes slipped shut.

"'Til death do us part, Dollface. 'Til death do us part," he croaked, just as I succumbed to the impenetrable dark.

My eyes flew open with a startled yelp and I toppled off the mattress, onto the floor, smacking my arm against the wall as I rolled about, trying to get my bearings. Sunlight poured through the windows and the distant cry of gulls reached my ears. I sat up, my legs tangled in the comforter, utterly confused. My hands instinctively went to my throat and I breathed a sigh of reliefe. It had been a dream. Only a dream. I closed my eyes, pushing the thoughts far away to some deep part of my mind. But God, it had felt so real. I shook my head as I worked to disentangle myself from the blanket.

After a granola bar for breakfast, I changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. I snagged a pair of sneakers and slipped a twenty dollar bill into my pocket before pulling the door shut behind me. Clinging desperately to the wobbly railing of the stairwell didn't seem to help much, but I managed to make it to the bottom of the stairs in one piece. I could hear the muted sound of someone's voice coming from the behind the door marked OFFICE and I imagined it was Marcus, discussing business matters. A nice soprano voice drifted down the hallway and though it piqued my curiosity, I didn't have time to snoop around the apartment complex today.

Outside, the air was warm and the sunshine seemed to coat the entire scene in a bright haze. I could hear the sound of waves beating steadily and a few song birds nested noisily in the trees that lined the street. I set to walking, my feet moving almost mechanically as I planned my day out. I had a basic idea of where everything was. The public park was 12 blocks East of my complex, and the beach itself was another 6 past that. The nearest shopping plaza was 10 blocks to the North of the apartments. The day seemed bursting with energy as I navigated the sidewalks, smiling at the easy mesh of people.

As I passed through the different neighborhoods I made note of the children playing carelessly in their lawn, drawing on the pavement with sidewalk chalk. Their soft laughs and youthful games reminded me of my own childhood and I smiled ruefully. I was unwilling to think of my own baby, so instead of getting caught up in things past, I paid closer attention to the houses and buildings, appreciating the rustic architecture. I was glad as the residential homes gave way to more industrial lots. Little bistros and family run bookstores came into view. There was a beauty salon across from Curves and a gas station just the other side of the Good Will.

I stopped when I got to the library, just eight short blocks from home. A handful of teenagers were rollerblading very deliberately in front of a sign that read _No Skating_, causing me to laugh. I entered through the wide, glass doors and was filled with nostalgia as the smell of books hit me. My eyes adjusted to the dim light and I drank in the scene hungrily. A long checkout desk with three computers ran along the wall. The children's section, along with the young adults' books was to the left of the door. I could see a few computers that were partitioned from the rest of the room. There was a couch and a few armchairs further back along a wall of windows. The room appeared to open up to the left and right once you got past the partition, with the reference section in a smaller room in the back. There was a large plaque that hung beside the periodicals that read:

_"Books are keys to wisdom's treasure;__  
__Books are gates to lands of pleasure;__  
__Books are paths that upward lead;__  
__Books are friends. Come, let us read."_

My fingers brushed the tall wooden shelves that housed seemingly hundreds of books as my eyes skimmed the titles. I delighted in the feel of the leather bound novels under my touch. The peaceful quiet was lapsed only by the clacking of computer keys and the occasion murmur of a child. The entire scene was beautiful and I sighed, engulfed in my own little world. I took a step back to admire the shelves, something caught my foot and I stumbled my arms flailing. Confused, I reached out instinctively, smacking my wrist on the shelf behind me as I regained my balance. Rubbing my sore wrist, I looked down to see what had been the source of my fall and blinked in surprise.

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**Sorry for the cliffie, but the first person who can tell me who that quote belongs to gets to name a special character in upcoming chapters.**

(A). Charles Dickens (B). Mark Twain (C). Emily Poulsson

**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.**

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**Simple Math**

**  
Writer + Free Time = Fanfiction**

**Fanfiction + Readers = Happiness**

**Happiness = Love**

**Love = Reviews**

**Therefore:**

**Reviews = More Chapters **

**So please review, even if its just to say 'hey' (:**

**Until next time**

**--**

**Toni**


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